


I Stand For This

by entropyalwaysincreases



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Pre-Wizarding War, Unexpected Pregnancy, cheese charming, inspired almost entirely by Some Nights by FUN, the Prewetts were purebloods y'all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 01:03:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10820457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entropyalwaysincreases/pseuds/entropyalwaysincreases
Summary: His parents are dead, his sister is pregnant, his world is crumbling, and Gideon Prewett doesn't quite know what he stands for.





	1. Race Wars: A History of Wizarding Britain in the Second Half of the 20th Century

The wars which have so shaped our society and its inhabitants since their culmination with the death of the Dark Wizard Voldemort are often spoken of as if they arose spontaneously, with said wizard leading an army of dark forces with unequivocally evil intent. In fact, there were a number of political and social changes in the preceding years that precipitated such a movement.

The issue of Muggleborns has long been a source of contention within Wizarding communities worldwide, and their social and legal status has often served as an indicator of Wizard-Muggle relations. In times of great upheaval, either contained within the magical world (as with the goblin uprisings that plagued the early modern era) or as conflict between the Muggle and magical domains, Muggleborns would often find themselves objects of suspicion, and were sometimes shunned or severely limited in their movements and actions. In times of peace, many great Witches and Wizards have pointed out the injustice of the discrimination against Muggleborns, as well as the hypocrisy of the most ardent purebloods, and the rights and status of Muggleborns has again been equilibrated. 

The Great Wars of the first half of the 20th century (called the 1st and 2nd World Wars by the Muggles) were both a domestic magical conflict and a Muggle-driven apocalypse that split even wizards along country lines. Grindelwald's forces sided with the Muggle Axis, and a number of wizards from Muggle Allied countries joined forces to stop him. 

This large-scale crisis seems to be precisely the sort of conflict that leads to an infringement upon Muggleborn rights. However, there was something rather different about this conflict. Grindelwald had a new world order in mind-- Wizards on top, Muggleborns and Muggles subjugated. He was the enemy, and so his ideology must also be contradicted and eradicated. In Wizarding Britain, this led to an unprecedented era of Muggleborn rights.

This was a legal distinction however, and many in Wizarding society (especially Purebloods, which made up the upper classes) still considered Muggleborns second-class citizens. Private establishments were permitted to deny service to anyone based on blood status, and certain Pureblood societies and clubs published an annual list of those they felt were being too "uppity," so they could be put in their place.

Civil Rights movements in other Muggle and Wizarding communities around the world gained ground in the 1950s, and similar movements popped up in Wizarding Britain. Coupled with a liberal Ministry, these movements led to several anti-discrimination laws that extended to werewolves and goblins, as well as Muggleborns. These caused some protest among Purebloods, who claimed that the government was overreaching, and that these new laws had severely infringed upon their rights to preserve their race. 

The pureblood community as a whole mostly resigned themselves to grumbling (and illicitly trying to bribe government officials) but several members redoubled their efforts to punish those they thought were rising beyond their station. One notable incident in the early 1960's, an altercation between two pureblood men and one Muggleborn which resulted in the deaths of the Purebloods, led to a renewed fervor in the pureblood community, and momentarily swayed public opinion against the Muggleborn movement. Other incidences, as well as growing tension between the Muggle and Magical communities in regard to nuclear armament, lent further sympathies to the Pureblood cause. 

The early years of Voldemort's first reign of terror were confusing to say the least. Many of his initial acts of terrorism were not necessarily associated with his cause (though his cause itself was becoming widely known), and were passed off as accidents or isolated incidents. He finally claimed credit for one of the most devastating incidents (a breach of the International Statute of Secrecy that resulted in 24 Muggle deaths) in 1970, which usually provides the date most Wizards use as the start of the First Race War. 


	2. Five Minutes In and I’m Bored Again

Sunshine slanted through the window, and even as Gideon blearily opened his eyes, he decided it was far too nice of a day. He glared at the cheery light and his eyes fell to Meg who was snoozing next to him. He decided she also had far too nice of a back, but that he was okay with this. Her chocolate hair tumbled in waves to cover her shoulders, but he could still spot the mole just below her left shoulder blade. He leaned over to kiss it.

"Hey," she said without opening her eyes. "You okay?"

He sighed and leaned back onto his pillow. "Yeah," he said, and consulted his watch. "I should probably get ready soon."

She frowned a little and finally opened her eyes to look up at him, lit up as he was by the relentless sunlight that ignited his flaming hair. 

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"

He stood up and stretched, then looked back at her with a dark expression on his face. "No. I don't want you anywhere near that madhouse."

 

The pop of his apparition disoriented him momentarily, and he blinked into the blinding sun, trying to take in his surroundings-- a grassy field with a solitary tree, the family plot. A crowd had gathered a little ways off and he made his way toward them through the knee-deep grass, his robes a dead weight on his shoulders. It was far too nice of a day. He kept his head down and found his brother and sister quickly, before anyone else could spot him, though he doubted the beacon of his hair would go unnoticed for long. 

Molly didn't say anything when he walked up, just met his gaze with bloodshot eyes in a sort of supplicating manner. She was his responsibility now, even if she had turned of age a year ago, and he pulled her into an embrace, nodding at their brother over her head. Fabian didn't say anything either, just swung out his hand for Gideon's, as if a handshake would make it all go away. Gideon snorted and pulled Fabian in, too, so the three of them clung to each other, wobbling, and nearly falling over. They broke apart with watery chuckles, and the silence was broken.

"How're you, Molls?" he asked, pulling a strand of her hair like she was five again. "N.E.W.T.s got you down?" 

"They're fine. Not looking forward to the tests, really..." She smiled halfheartedly. "Arthur's been a dear, though, helping me out..."

"Yes, how is the little weasel?" Fabian said, seizing upon this. "Been keeping his paws to himself, has he?"

"Fabian," Gideon warned while Molly turned pink. Thankfully, the assorted relatives chose that moment to descend upon them at last. Gideon had barely turned to greet one uncle when he was smothered with a hug from behind. 

"Oh, you poor dears!" came a shout, and a sloppy kiss caught him somewhere on the back of his head. He was released, and Great Aunt Bessie came into view, her sizeable behind made even larger by the ample bustle attached to the back of her mourning robes. "Just to think," she continued, moving on to Fabian, "the three of you barely out of nappies--" ("I'm 21," Fabian grumbled) "--and all on your own! Heartbreaking, it really is..."

There were murmurs of agreement from the surrounding crowd, and Gideon found himself being passed from one relative to the next. Their cooing and chattering melded into a droning buzz, and Gideon found it was simply easier to tune them all out. 

"It's the times we live in," one aunt said, shaking her head sadly. "When two wizards of such good stock can be left without justice...in my day we would've hunted those Muggle lovers down, without regard to any _laws_..."

"You know what I've always said," another withered wizard shouted, waving his ear trumpet at them, "I always told your dear parents, I did, that they were far too _sympathetic_ to all that business... that's what got them noticed, you mark my words. You know _those_ ones can't be trusted..."

Gideon felt a boiling of anger in the pit of his stomach, despite his attempts to ignore them all. He caught a glance of Molly's face, blank-eyed and so very white, of Fabian's, which was murderous, and he decided to cut the conversation short. 

"The Murmurer is ready, I think," he said loudly, and the witches and wizards broke into small groups and began making their way towards the two mounds of fresh dirt. Great Aunt Muriel remained, seizing Molly's elbow as they walked slowly after.

"It'll be alright, dear, you'll see. Don't you listen to them, they're all ninnies." Gideon glanced at her, surprised; Aunt Muriel usually didn't have a kind word to offer. "And you have me in any case. I out-lived your grandparents, and now your parents--watch out, I'll give you a run for it next!" She left with a cackle, and Gideon rolled his eyes.

" _There_ it is," he whispered to Fabian.

"Old bat," Fabian said back, not bothering to keep his voice down. "Reckon she'll leave us anything? We're her next-of-kin now, aren't we?"

"We have plenty of money," Gideon said automatically, though he was not so sure it was true. They'd always been comfortable, but his parents' accounts had been ill-kept, and he wondered just how much of what they spent had actually been theirs. His mother's side was loaded, but with the way they were acting nowadays... Well, he wasn't entirely sure of their financial situation at the moment.

The Murmurer, wearing robes of white, was standing at the head of the two graves. He cleared his throat, and the surrounding mourners fell silent.

"We gather today," he said in a warbling voice, "to honor the lives of Atticus and Lyanna Prewett. They were fine wizards, always willing to help a friend, and we will miss them greatly..."

 He went on to talk about Atticus's successful cauldron business and Lyanna's accomplishments in cheese charming. How they were upright citizens, good purebloods who knew where they came from. They didn't deserve what they got…

He droned on, and Gideon fell into a stupor. The people this Murmurer praised so highly could not possibly be his parents. His parents couldn't be reduced to cauldrons and cheese charming. And he wondered which definition of "good purebloods" the Murmurer was using-- that they had married each other perhaps? Kept ancient bloodlines pure? But they weren't purebloods like those that surrounding him now, not-so-silently condemning Muggleborns for all of their problems. His parents hadn't even blinked an eye when he brought home Meg...

"--and most of all they were parents, of two fine wizards and one spectacular witch, who will miss them more than all of us together. Gideon and Fabian and Molly, who will continue their legacy and uphold the proud Prewett name. We grieve with you and we salute you; honor them so they have not died in vain."

It was all about sex with them, Gideon decided; the veiled comment to "uphold the Prewett name" rankled. He and Molly and Fabian were all just eligible pieces of meat, acceptable partners in a shrinking pool of purebloods. For once he was glad that Molly and Weasley were so serious; at least Arthur was a decent fellow, and she wouldn't get any flack for marrying beneath her, though the Weasleys were commonly accepted as blood traitors. He sometimes wondered about Fabian, who had dated off and on a pureblood princess from Ravenclaw whom Gideon had not much liked.  

 The Murmurer spoke a few more words of meaningless comfort and it was over. Gideon blinked and looked at Molly, whose face was wet with tears. He hadn't cried, he realized in a panic. He ought to summon up some tears; who doesn't cry at his own parents' funeral? But he felt numb and blank, and these people were not worthy of witnessing his grief.

Fabian glared aimlessly into the crowd. What a bunch of fuckers. And he was related to most of them. Fuck.

He'd wiped away a few angry tears at the end of the eulogy, and he had to make up for his moment of weakness in front of these people. He glanced sideways and Molly, and at Gideon next to her. Molly was crying quietly but Gideon looked simply blank. Best leave him to it.

"Hey," he whispered to Molly, putting a hand comfortingly on her shoulder. "Want to take a turn?"

She nodded and stood up, wiping her eyes. They were joined almost immediately by a springy little man who breezed past Fabian to embrace Molly in a hug.

"My _dear_ ," he said, squeezing her so her eyes bugged out a bit. "My deepest condolences. Wonderful people, your parents. And your mother was ever so helpful with that tricky Gouda of mine, remember?"

"Yes, Mr. Weasley," Molly replied politely.

"Oh no, dear, you _must_ call me Uncle Bilius... After all, I will be soon, don't you think?" He gave her a long and significant look. "In any case, I'll pass on that I saw you to Septimus...he wasn't invited--too much on the other side of all this business I think. But he would have loved to have seen you, dear!"

"I'll tell Arthur I saw you," she offered.

"Yes, yes, we'll get together once all your tests are over and have a real party. And your brother here is invited of course! Always need a new audience for my party tricks!" He patted his rump knowingly, winked, and trotted off. Fabian shook his head slightly then looked questioningly at Molly.

"Arthur's uncle," she explained. "He's...a bit off."

"And yet he's still my favorite person I've met here yet..."

They set off along the periphery of the crowd. Fabian wondered what the point of all this was, why he couldn't just apparate home and sleep for the next fortnight. But there were appearances to be upheld still, he supposed, especially considering the uncertainty of his parents' deaths...

"Why, Molly, hello!" A beautiful girl with high cheekbones and lush, dark hair that fell to her waist stood before them, her heavily-lidded eyes bright and welcoming.

"Hello, Bellatrix," Molly said, forcing a smile to her lips. "Thank you ever so much for coming."

"Wouldn't miss it, dear, wouldn't miss it," she said, leaning in for a one-armed hug. "You're my cousin, after all. Or nearly." She laughed. "Ah, Aunt Lucretia! Just lovely!"

A pale, blonde woman had sidled up to them and gave a tight-lipped smile at the greeting. Her husband followed, and Fabian felt a modicum of relief--Uncle Ignatius was real family, against this backdrop of pretense to relation.

"Fabian, m'boy!" Ignatius clapped him on the back, but did not say anything else, for which Fabian was grateful. What was there to be said?

"So, Molly, are you going back to school after this, or have you decided N.E.W.T.'s are just a _wee_ bit much for you?" Bellatrix's smile was positively radiant. Fabian bristled, poised to intervene, but Molly beat him to it.

"No, no, I'll be sticking them out. I haven't got quite the same... _extracurriculars_ you did, Bella, to distract me." She smiled back sweetly. Fabian wondered what she was referring to, and decided it was probably Flint. Or Bulstrode. Or Lestrange. The Bella he remembered _had_ gotten around. Bellatrix smiled even more widely, if possible, and it was probably a good thing that Antonin Dolohov chose that moment to sling his arm around her shoulders.

"Get _off_ me, you _Muggle_ ," she hissed, and shoved him away, her hand going automatically for her wand.

"Hey, hey, cool down," he said, putting up his hands. "Just being friendly. _Birds_ ," he added conspiratorially to Fabian. Fabian gave a weak chuckle.

Fabian didn't especially like Dolohov--he was in Slytherin, after all, and Quidditch rivalries had made any friendly discourse impossible. But they were related somehow--third cousin of someone's aunt once removed, maybe?--and being in the same year they'd seen enough of each other at events like this one. Sometimes Fabian wished he were a Muggleborn, if only so he wasn't related to every goddamn Pureblood in England. Though from what Gideon had told him about Meg, she had some similar issues...

A stooped witch with a pronounced hump laboriously made her way to join their group, leaning heavily on her cane as she went. Bella went to greet her: "Mrs. Avery--!" but the witch cut over her.

"As I was saying before," she said croakily, as if they had all been waiting for her to finish, "it's the _times_ that are to blame. All these Merlin-forsaken laws in place--in my day we never would've stood for it!"

Ignatius frowned. "Rigoberta, you can't possibly think--"

"But I do!" she cut over him, her eyes bulging. "And you know who else does-- this Voldemort fellow everyone's been blabbing about. He seems like he's got _his_ priorities in order!"

Ignatius frowned even harder. "Now, Rigoberta, see here..."

They continued to argue, but Fabian's gaze fell to Bellatrix. Her expression was exalted, beatific, as if she had seen truth and lived to tell about it. He shifted uncomfortably; the expression didn't make her own stunning features look more beautiful, it made her look crazy. No wonder Molly didn't like her.

He didn't have much to say on "this Voldemort fellow" and his mind wandered. He was an orphan now, he thought for the hundredth time. 21 wasn't young, but it wasn't so old, either. He'd thought he had a few more good years of dicking around ahead of him. Now he'd have to get a real job--a career even. Gideon would want him to have security and a livelihood. And Fabian couldn't really disagree with him there; he couldn't keep mooching off the family funds, whatever there was left, especially now that Molly was coming home.

He looked down at Molly. He always laughed at how short she was, the top of her head not quite even with his shoulder. But then, he was tall, 6’3”, and he laughed at most people for being short. Only Gideon ever measured up.

“You mark my words, you’ll see!” Rigoberta Avery shook a crooked finger at Ignatius as her son pulled her away by her elbow. The funeral was breaking up, people vanishing in droves all around the field. Bellatrix gave another saccharine smile and pulled Rodolphus Lestrange into nothingness behind her. Fabian looked toward the chairs, but Gideon was missing. No, there he was, standing besides the graves, his hands in the pockets of his robes.

“C’mon,” he whispered to Molly, and she picked up the hem of her robes to make it across the swaths of blowing grass, her red curls tossed similarly by the wind.

“It’s a nice place to be buried,” she said thoughtfully as they picked their way toward Gideon. “I’m glad they’re not in a churchyard somewhere.”

“Why not?”

“They’re just so… creepy. Obviously.” She paused. “And it addled the Relatives something awful, didn’t you hear? Said it wasn’t the ‘proper pureblood way.’ That’s got to be worth something.”

Fabian guffawed and she giggled along with him. They stopped short as Gideon turned around.

“What’s so funny?”

“Molly’s glad Mum and Dad weren’t buried properly.”

“That’s _not_ what I said—“

Gideon watched them both squabbling, and a slow smile came to his face. They’d be alright. He hoped. By Merlin, he hoped.

“C’mon, you lot. We’d best get Molly back to school--”

“So she can fail her N.E.W.T.’s,” Fabian interjected, and doubled over when Molly elbowed him.

“—and maybe catch a bite at the Three Broomsticks?” He held out two arms, and with his brother and his sister by his side, he thought that maybe hope wasn’t such a futile thing.

“Wait! Just a second…” Molly dashed out and stopped just in front of the tombstones. She knelt, and laid a kiss on each of the smooth, cold stones, tracing the sunken lettering with her fingers. Gideon felt Fabian squeeze his arm tightly, and felt tears prick his own eyes. He was crying at last. Molly ran back to them, and the tears that obscured his vision morphed her into a red blob.

“Shall we?” he asked, and he blinked his vision clear to read their names, just one last time before he disapparated.

_Bye, Mum and Dad._


	3. My Heart is Breaking

There was a nervous energy in the station behind the wall. Parents checked pocket watches repeatedly, anxiously called to their children the moment they were spotted. There was no lollygagging, no chatting. Students were shunted through the barrier five and six at a time; consideration for what the Muggles thought could go out the window at a time like this.

Gideon found Fabian with his hands in his pockets, kicking at small stones on the platform floor. 

"Spotted her yet?" He asked. Fabian drew his pocket watch, much like the other parents, and shook his head. Gideon glanced around them and fingered his wand under his cloak. What if they decided to attack Wizards next?

A flash of red caught his eye, and he plucked Molly out of the crowd, crushing her into his arms in relief. Fabian tugged her from him before he was quite done.

Her face was pale and drawn over Fabian's shoulder; she looked worse than she had on the day of the funeral. 

"Aww, cheer up, Molls," Fabian said as he let her go. "N.E.W.T. results don't even come until the end of June." 

She gave a smile that couldn't even qualify as half-hearted. "Can we just get out of here?" She said quietly, and turned away from them, struggling to drag her trunk.

Her brothers exchanged significant looks and hurried after her. Gideon tugged her trunk from her grip and loaded it into the cart he had ready. They made it through the barrier and out into the bustling station beyond, dodging Muggles intent on their destination.

"Where's Weasley?" Fabian muttered to Gideon. "Last year we could barely pull her away from him."

Last year, Gideon thought wistfully. Last year had been so different; parents alive, no crazed Muggle hunters on the loose. His biggest worries were what his mum and dad would think of Meg and whether he would ever get a promotion at the Ministry. He wondered if Molly looked at things the same way, if she saw the folly in the pursuit of a silly thing like a relationship. It surprised him, but he hoped not. Silly things were more important now than ever. 

They reached the Disapparation point and Molly deftly turned on the spot without a word to them, disappearing silently into the darkening night. 

"Blimey, what's up with her?" Fabian said, peering at the spot where she had disappeared. 

"Let's find out," said Gideon, and, clutching the trunk tightly in one hand, he too spun into darkness. 

She wasn't in the kitchen when they got in, but the door to the staircase was ajar and they climbed the two stories to her room. Gideon knocked. 

"Molly?" He called through the door. "Molly, what's the matter?"

"Where's Weasley?" Fabian added, and Gideon pulled away from the door to glare at him. "What?" Fabian whispered.

"It might be a sensitive topic," Gideon whispered back. 

"A sensitive top-- like they broke up?" 

" _ I _ don't know..."

"I can hear you, you know," came Molly's voice from the other room. They both turned back to the door.

"So open up, Molls," Gideon said. "Tell us what's happening."

"Are you upset about Voldemort?" Fabian asked. "Or is this just some stupid girl thing?"

There was a resounding clunk from inside the room, as if something had been set down rather abruptly. The door opened and Molly's tearstained face appeared. She glared at Fabian.

"What sort of problems," she said slowly, her voice wavering a bit in anger, "would you consider to be 'stupid girl things'?"

Fabian looked taken aback

"I... I dunno. Boy stuff I guess. But Molly, I'm sorry if what I said about Arthur--"

"We had a fight," she said evenly. "He is no longer in my life."

Fabian's eyebrows shot up, and Gideon was sure his did the same. 

"Why?" he said before he could stop himself. 

"Because he called me racist."

"What?" Gideon was baffled. He'd never heard Arthur even raise his voice at Molly, let alone insult her. "Why?"

"Because..." She faltered, looking at the floor and clutching the doorframe with her hand. "Because I said that at least the attack hadn't killed any wizards.

"Well, what's so bad about that?" Fabian asked. "It's certainly not worth getting all in a huff about."

"Oh Molly," Gideon sighed, and she avoided his gaze. 

"I know it was bad to say, okay?" Fabian looked at her skeptically. "It  _ was _ . And I'm sorry I said it."

"So why don't you just apologize?" 

"Because he had no right to call me that," she said, puffing herself up. "We didn't all grow up blood traitors. And I was scared and feeling helpless and I wasn't thinking straight. And he had no right to call me that."

She ended fiercely and glared at them both as if daring them to contradict her. Gideon didn't say anything, both out of self preservation and because he didn't know what to say. Maybe she was right, and it wasn’t their fault they were prejudiced, however mildly. Maybe he had thought the same thing himself, though he’d never have dared to say it aloud…

"Will you leave me alone now that I've told you?" Her eyes had welled up with tears again, and her voice wavered on the edge of breaking. 

Gideon nodded, and pushed away from her door, which closed smartly with a snap. Fabian followed him down the stairs. 

"That's a pity," Fabian said. "Weasley wasn't such a bad bloke, even if he did have a stick up his arse..."

They ate dinner in the kitchen, their house elf, Bixby, muttering about how Molly would starve if she didn't come to fetch her dinner soon.

"Why don't you bring her some upstairs if you're so worried about her?" Fabian snapped after the fifth reiteration.

"Bixby did not raise you children that way," the house elf said severely. "Miss Molly can come down if she wants to eat."

But Molly did not come down and after a time, with a wayward glance and a flap of her aging ears, Bixby brought a bowl of soup up to her room after all. She came down three quarters of an hour later looking more sheepish than when she went up. Gideon, who by then was skimming the Daily Prophet, did not think anything of it until Bixby started chattering nervously.

"Bixby took too long upstairs, Bixby knows. Bixby is sorry. Nothing important. Nothing important upstairs." She disappeared with a loud crack that seemed to mirror her jumpiness.

Gideon looked over the top of the newspaper at Fabian, who was clumsily trying to repair a set of omnioculars. 

"Did that strike you as odd?" He asked, nodding after Bixby.

"Who can ever tell with elves?" Fabian shrugged. "Do you reckon she could help me with these? I dropped the damn things flying over Bristol. Just barely got a cushioning charm around them in time."

"You call that in time?" Gideon asked, surveying the mangled set. He returned to his newspaper, but skimming would be too strong of a word now. His mind wandered to Bixby, and upstairs to where Molly was surely still in tears. Molly, who had only gathered herself together when talking about what was  _ supposed _ to be making her upset.  _ What sort of problems would you consider “stupid girl things”?  _ And it sounded like Bixby had been ordered not to tell something. Something important.  _ Nothing important upstairs... _

"Fabian," he said slowly. "I don't think Molly told us everything..."

He got up suddenly from the table and drifted, as if in a dream, to the staircase. The stairs seemed a mountain, and he climbed them as quick as he could. 

"Molly," he breathed to the crack of her door, his face flush with the polished wood. "Molly, is there something else?"

The door moved out from under his cheek, and he barely caught his balance before Molly had buried her face into his shoulder. 

"Yes," she whispered. She kept her face hidden and he could feel tears seeping into his shirt. "I'm pregnant."

 

It was fast approaching midnight now, and yet they still sat in the kitchen, a perfect triad around the table. Bixby brought a pot of tea to the table and left for the pantry, twisting her own ears anxiously. They could hear her banging pots and pans around by the stove. Molly slumped with her arms crossed tightly across her chest. She wasn’t crying, for which Gideon was somewhat impressed, though he wondered if she had simply run out of tears. He cleared his throat.

“So… “ He cleared it again. “I suppose we should—discuss some things?”

Molly looked at him dully. “Like what?”

“Like, er… well, I’m assuming Arthur’s the father?”

She glared indignantly at him. “Of course he is!”

“That little fucker,” Fabian spat, his arms crossed quite as tightly as Molly’s were. “When I get my hands on him—“

It was Gideon’s turn to glare. “This isn’t helpful right now.”

“I don’t care if—that little—I oughta—“ Fabian’s words trailed off into incoherent mutterings. 

Gideon directed his attention once more at Molly. 

“So does he know?”

“No,” she mumbled, looking at her knees. “I—I only found out a fortnight ago. And by then we’d had our fight…and he left a week before term ended to visit his brother in Canada, so…”

“So the fucker’s in Canada, eh?” Fabian interjected. Gideon ignored him.

“Molly, you have to tell him,” he said gently. “I—he would want to know.”

She looked at him for a long moment. There was something calculating in her look. “What if… what if I didn’t want to tell him?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Gideon was confused. This was Molly and Arthur they were talking about, the couple who had only ever had eyes for each other, the couple that were practically married by their fifth year. What had happened to this world, that something so stable and guaranteed had become so uncertain?

Voldemort. Voldemort had happened.

“I can’t ruin his chances of a career—he’s due to start at the Ministry in the fall. And you know how hard-off his family’s been since his mother was disowned… I can’t do that to him.” She finished and stared at him, the dead look returning to her eye. But there was something missing to her story. Plenty of witches and wizards got married just out of Hogwarts—this was hardly a deal-breaker for a  _ job _ …

Gideon frowned. “Molly, I hardly think—“

“I have to think about it okay!” Her voice rose excitedly. “There’re things to be considered that I haven’t considered yet!”

Gideon in turn considered her. “Like what?”

“Like… like marriage, and what’ll people think, and this Volde-fellow, and—and what if he hates me?” She ended looking at her knees, her voice a low mumble. 

“Molly,” Gideon began gently. “You have to think about what’s best for the baby.”

“I am thinking about what’s best for the baby!” The look she gave him was pure vitriol, and she brought her hand to her abdomen. In spite of everything, Gideon was still shocked to see there was a bump there. He heard a faint ringing in his ears.

They sat in silence for a while. 

“They call him blood traitor at school, you know,” she said quietly. And Gideon caught a glimpse of her logic. Blood traitors and Muggleborns. They’d both thrown in their lot, and it appeared their side was losing. She took a deep breath, her eyes shiny. “I’ll tell him, okay? Just… not yet.”

“Molly—“

“Give it a rest, won’t you?” Fabian spoke up. “It sounds like she’s got a good few reasons. And the bloke’s not even in the country anyway. It’s her decision, isn’t it?” He looked at Molly, who gave him a grateful smile. “Come on, we’ll figure it out.”

Gideon shook his head but said nothing. How could this have happened? How could he have let it happen? He was supposed to be taking care of them…

“So how far along is the little bundle of joy anyway?” Fabian asked. “Just out of curiosity.”

Molly blushed deeply, and Gideon rolled his eyes.  _ Great, just ask her when the last time she had sex was, why don’t you? _

“Erm… as far as I can figure, about—about three months along.”

“Three  _ months _ ?” Gideon could feel his composure slipping. “Three months—that’s when, that’s around the time that—“

“Mum and Dad died,” Molly supplied dully.

“Oh, Molly,” Gideon said sadly. He reached out and took her hand. Her fingers were so small, her palm half the size of his. He remembered when she was a baby. Fabian was an obstinate 3-year-old, didn’t want anything to do with her. But to 4-year-old Gideon, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. 

The grandfather clock on the wall struck twelve, its resident phoenix figurine emerging to sing its swan song and burst into flames as the gongs sounded.

“I think we ought to call this one a draw.” Fabian gathered his things and Gideon couldn’t tell if he was referring to the omnioculars or the unplanned pregnancy. “Chin up, Molls. Things’ll look better in the morning.”

They followed her up the stairs, each to their own childhood bedroom. Gideon thought briefly of Meg, wondered how he’d manage to see her and deal with this fresh catastrophe. Maybe she’d want to help, but that was hardly fair to her--

“Some nights, mate,” Fabian said in an undertone after Molly shut her door. He shook his head and retreated into his room, a stray piece falling from the omnioculars as he went. Gideon was momentarily rooted in the hall before he blinked and shut his own door behind him.

Some terrible nights.


End file.
